Charles Williams wrote:
>
> ---------------------------------------------------------------
>
> Subject: Fw: A Letter About Mark
> Date: Wed, 18 Nov 1998 23:33:03 -0500
> From: "Susan Moynahan" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: "Charles Williams" <[log in to unmask]>
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: aneill <[log in to unmask]>
> To: Veronica Young <[log in to unmask]>; Shelley Wright
> <[log in to unmask]>; Larry Wayne <[log in to unmask]>; Pat Robinson
> <[log in to unmask]>; Keith/Maria Parsons <[log in to unmask]>; Connie
> Newport <[log in to unmask]>; Eric Neill <[log in to unmask]>; Sue Moynahan
> <[log in to unmask]>; wendy mark <[log in to unmask]>; Sue Madaus
> <[log in to unmask]>; Megan Hall <[log in to unmask]>; Leigh-anne Gerow
> <[log in to unmask]>
> Date: Wednesday, November 18, 1998 11:10 PM
> Subject: Fw: A Letter About Mark
>
> >
> >-----Original Message-----
> >From: [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>
> >To: [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>; [log in to unmask]
> ><[log in to unmask]>; [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>;
> >[log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>; [log in to unmask]
> ><[log in to unmask]>; [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>;
> >[log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>; [log in to unmask]
> ><[log in to unmask]>; [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>;
> >[log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>
> >Date: Wednesday, November 18, 1998 9:33 PM
> >Subject: Re: A Letter About Mark
> >
> >
> >>Long, but worth it........ brought tears and smiles to my face
> >>G:)
> >>>
> >>> All Good Things
> >>> By
> >>> Sister Helen P. Mrosla
> >>>
> >>> He was in the first third grade class I thought at St.
> >>> Mary's School in Morris, MN. All 34 of my students were
> >>> dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very
> >>> neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive
> >>> attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness
> >>> delightful.
> >>>
> >>> Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and
> >>> again that talking without permission was not acceptable.
> >>> What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere
> >>> response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving
> >>> - "thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know
> >>> what to make of it at first, but before long I became
> >>> accustomed to hearing it many times a day.
> >>>
> >>> One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked
> >>> once too often, and then I made a novice-teacher's
> >>> mistake. I looked at Mark and said, "if you say one more
> >>> word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!" It wasn't ten
> >>> seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking
> >>> again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me
> >>> watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in
> >>> front of the class, I had to act on it.
> >>>
> >>> I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning.
> >>> I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer
> >>> and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a
> >>> work, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of
> >>> tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then
> >>> returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark
> >>> to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it!!
> >>> I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back
> >>> to Mark's desk, removed the tape, and shrugged my
> >>> shoulders. His first words were, "thank you for
> >>> correcting me, Sister."
> >>>
> >>> At the end of the year, I was asked to teach junior-high
> >>> math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was
> >>> in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever
> >>> and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to
> >>> my instruction in the "new math," he did not talk as much
> >>> in ninth grad as he had in third.
> >>>
> >>> One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked
> >>> hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the
> >>> students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and
> >>> edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness
> >>> before it got out of hand. So, I asked them to list the
> >>> names of the other students in the room on two sheets of
> >>> paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told
> >>> them to think of the nicest thing they could say about
> >>> each of their classmates and write it down. It took the
> >>> remainder of the class period to finish their assignment,
> >>> and as the students left the room, each one handed me the
> >>> papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "thank you for
> >>> teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."
> >>>
> >>> That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a
> >>> separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else
> >>> had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each
> >>> student his or her list. Before long, the entire class
> >>> was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never
> >>> knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know
> >>> others like me so much." No one ever mentioned those
> >>> papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed
> >>> them after class or with their parents, but it didn't
> >>> matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The
> >>> students were happy with themselves and one another
> >>> again. That group of students moved on.
> >>>
> >>> Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my
> >>> parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home,
> >>> Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the
> >>> water, my experiences in general. There was a lull in
> >>> the conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and
> >>> simply says, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he
> >>> usually did before something important. "The Elkunds
> >>> called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I
> >>> haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."
> >>> Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam, the
> >>> funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if
> >>> you could attend." To this day I can still point to the
> >>> exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark.
> >>>
> >>> I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin
> >>> before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could
> >>> think at that moment was, Mark I would give all the
> >>> masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.
> >>> The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's
> >>> sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did
> >>> it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was
> >>> difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the
> >>> usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one
> >>> those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and
> >>> sprinkled it with holy water. I was the last one to
> >>> bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers
> >>> who acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's
> >>> math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to
> >>> stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he
> >>> said.
> >>>
> >>> After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed
> >>> to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father
> >>> were there. Obviously waiting for me. "We want to show
> >>> you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of
> >>> his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed.
> >>> We thought you might recognize it." Opening the
> >>> billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook
> >>> paper that had obviously been taped, folded, and refolded
> >>> many times. I knew without looking that the papers were
> >>> the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of
> >>> Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much
> >>> for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see,
> >>> Mark treasured it." Mark's classmates started to gather
> >>> around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I
> >>> still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at
> >>> home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in
> >>> our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said.
> >>> "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate,
> >>> reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and
> >>> showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry
> >>> this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an
> >>> eyelash. "I think we call saved our lists." That's when
> >>> I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for
> >>> all his friends who would never see him again.
> >>>
> >>>
> >>> The purpose of this letter is to encourage everyone to
> >>> compliment the people you love and care about. We often
> >>> tend to forget the importance of showing our affections
> >>> and love. Sometimes the smallest of things, could mean
> >>> the most to another. I am asking you, to please send
> >>> this letter around and spread the message and
> >>> encouragement, to express your love and caring by
> >>> complimenting and being open with communication. The
> >>> density of people in society is so thick that we forget
> >>> that life will end one day. And we don't know when that
> >>> one day will be.
> >>>
> >>> Please, tell the people you love and care for, that they
> >>> are special and important. Tell them, before it is too
> >>> late.
> >>>
> >>> Within 1 hour you must sent it to other people. Within
> >>> five days you will have a miraculous occurrence in your
> >>> relationships. You may find new love or have an old love
> >>> rekindled.
> >>>
> >>> If you do not send it, you will have, once again passed
> >>> up the opportunity to do something loving and beautiful
> >>> and continue the trend that gives you problems in your
> >>> relationships.
> >>>
> >>> If you received this it is because someone cares for you
> >>> and it means there is probably at least someone for whom
> >>> you care.
> >>>
> >>> If you're too busy to take the few minutes that it would
> >>> take right now to forward this to ten people, would it be
> >>> the first time you didn't do that little thing that would
> >>> make a difference in your relationships?
> >>>
> >>> The more people that you send this to, the better luck
> >>> you will have. And the better you'll get a reaching out
> >>> to those you care about.
> >>>
> >>> Here's the deal:
> >>>
> >>> Forward this letter to at least 10 different people;
> >>> within 1 hour of receiving it. Do it, and reap what you
> >>> sow: luck in love, people who care for you, and that
> >
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